Frumpy and Fabulous: A Redemption Story

A matronly Scottish woman named Susan Boyle moved me to tears this week—me and millions of other You Tube viewers. If you have yet to watch the clip from the show Britain’s Got Talent (like American Idol, across the Atlantic), here’s what happened:

Boyle, a fairly frumpy 47-year-old with a short shock of gray curls and bordering-on-bushy eyebrows, walked out on stage in a mother-of-the-bride dress. The snarky audience immediately twittered and sniggered at her dowdy appearance. In a brief interview before her performance, she told the judges that she aspired to be a famous singer. The cynical crowd jeered openly. But Ms. Boyle was evidently undeterred—a tad oblivious, perhaps, but no matter: The music started, and she soulfully swept the house clean of every skeptical sneer.

Susan sang “I Dreamed A Dream” from Les Miserables, the poignant tale of the French Revolution. Now, I admit, this song almost always makes me cry—it’s so sad and beautiful and fraught with anguish:

I dreamed a dream in time gone by,
When hope was high and life, worth living.
I dreamed that love would never die,
I dreamed that God would be forgiving.

But the tigers come at night,
With their voices soft as thunder,
As they tear your hope apart,
And they turn your dream to shame.

On that stage, on that show, on that night, Susan Boyle stood up to those damned tigers! Tiger-people who claw at the tender souls of “misfits” whose clothes aren’t cool, whose bodies aren’t sleek, and whose faces aren’t sculpted or plucked or made up to perfection. “Weirdos” who simply don’t see the world the way most folks do—they’re “odd,” “strange,”…to-be-feared…and jeered. If we admit it, there are secret compartments in each of our hearts that nervously suspect we are the misfits. And sometimes, regrettably, our anxiety awakens our own inner tiger that tears down people around us, even—no, especially—those we love.

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living,
So different now from what it seemed...
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed...

Susan’s song—Susan’s story, as a woman who went from laughing-stock to “Who’s laughing now?”—represents redemption. That’s what moved me to tears. It wasn’t so much her strong voice that inspired me, but her strong spirit—her courage. While millions watched, she defied the spirit of scorn, in the room and in the world. And in doing so, she rekindled the deep-down dream of acceptance and love for everyone who watched her.

Bravo, Susan, Bravo!